Dragonborn Infamy
by Vissarion
Summary: This is the tale of the Last Dragonborn, Maccabeus. In Nordic culture, the Dragonborn is known as a noble hero who saves lives. The reality is much, much darker. Follow the journey of Maccabeus as he faces down the treachery of Skyrim. 4E 201
1. Prologue

The deer stood next to a tree. It bent its head downwards and ate. A doe. While it was busy chewing, the bushes next to it rustled. Just as the doe was about to turn its head towards the noise, its throat was struck in the side with an arrow. The animal cried out and staggered before collapsing to the ground. A short, stocky Nord man emerged from behind a rock holding a wooden bow in his hand. A hunter. He approached the deer's mangled carcass with his hunting knife.

"Haha, a fresh kill! Bjornvald would be proud," announced the hunter with pride. The Nord thought he was just talking to himself. He was not alone, however. He crouched down next to the deer's body and started using his knife to cut off the hide and meat. But something was not right. The man, acting out of instinct, quickly turned around with his bow in one hand and knife in the other. There was nothing behind him. He cursed and crouched back down. Again, the man felt someone else's presence in the deep woods. He tried to turn around again, only to have a pair of hands clutch his neck and break it in a mighty snap.

And just like that, the quietness of the forest went on in serenity. But where the mighty doe once stood, there were two bodies: the doe itself and its hunter. A living man was leaning back on the tree next to the corpses. Mac started searching the body of the hunter. Nothing of value was in the late hunter's possession, however. Mac had no use for ranged weapons, either. Which is why he stalked the hunter who would snag some meat for dinner. Mac took his own knife and cut up the deer. He placed the pieces of venison into his bag.

The plan to escape into Skyrim was working so far for Mac. One may wonder, why is Mac running off? Mac isn't just some regular man, though. He is Maccabeus Lorenzo, born to the powerful Cyrodillic family. His family was Imperial and a strong supporter of the Empire. Why would a member of the Lorenzo family be vilified by the Empire? As said before, Mac isn't a regular man. When he was 4, he and his kin were caught up in the Great War. Their small town near the Cyrodiil-Valenwood border was one of the first to fall victim to the Aldmeri Dominion's treachery.

**_30 years ago - 4E 171_**

"Elven forces are here!"

A stray fireball flew by and incinerated the town guard. The man screamed in terror as he spasmed painfully trying to put out the fire. He cried for help, but about a second later, he collapsed and breathed his final breaths. In Maccabeus Lorenzo's tearful eyes, this was a living nightmare. An "Oblivion on Nirn" sort of situation. Mac ran away from the burning bodies back towards his family's mansion. "Mama, Papa!" he yelled. He was horrified to find that his house in flames. A look of relief swept across his face when he saw his mother carrying his little sister towards him.

"Mama!"

He ran up and hugged his mother and sister. He was relieved, then worried.

"Where's Papa?"

Mama stared downwards at Mac. Her eyes were bloodshot and wet. "Papa is out there fighting. Please, Macky, please don't go look for him." His mother's voice choked.

_But why, Papa? _thought Maccabeus. His sister suddenly screamed. Mac turned around and saw a lone Thalmor wizard approaching them slowly, both of his palms carrying bright flames. "MAMA!" The Thalmor did not hesitate to allow them to speak any last words as he fired off a single burst of fire at the three. The last thing Mac could see before blacking out was his mother jumping towards the fire.

The story of Maccabeus Lorenzo was that of tragedy. He and his sister survived, but Mac at the time would have rather died along with his friends and families. That same day, he was taken as a prisoner-of-war for the Dominion. He looked along the line of prisoners, and caught no sight of his father. He also lost contact with his sister about 2 years after the fateful day - some historians say that she was executed, others say she ran off and disappeared. Some even doubt if she exists anymore. Yet still, Maccabeus was going to grow up to be the most wicked man Tamriel had ever encountered.


	2. Meet the Blues

_**Present Day**_

Mac sat next to his campfire. Even the border of Skyrim was pretty cold by Cyrodillic standards. He roasted the venison he "caught" earlier. The inviting smell of cooked mega filled the cold air. Right after he finished dinner, Mac would go to the border fence and find a way through. He still hadn't decided whether he should fight his way in, sneak, or attempt to hide his identity. Mac's personality would probably result in him killing the border patrol anyways.

Mac finished the venison and munched down a piece of bread before setting off again. It didn't take long before he caught sight of the large border gate. It was lit up heavily by torches, and he could see guards perched along the wall, much more than usual. Why there were so many guards, Mac did not know. Either way, he will get to Skyrim. He darted from tree to tree until he was finally near the pathway that led to the gate. Mac cursed to himself, regretting that he didn't take the hunter's clothes as a disguise.

There was a lone guard standing in front of the gate. The rest of his fellow Imperial soldiers were either inside the wall or patrolling on top of it. Unfortunately for Mac, the guard was standing right next to a torch and was even holding one himself. So that rules out stealthily killing the guard or trying to disguise himself. There was no other option, now. Mac unsheathed his sword and charged towards the guard.

Before the guard could react, a blade was plunged right into his guts, killing him before he could scream. The guards on the top could find the body any second. This has to work, thought Mac. He yelled out, "OPEN THE GATE!" To his surprise, it did. The guard who activated the switch immediately noticed his comrade's dead body, but by then, Mac had already ran off down the road. Arrows hit the ground behind him. Eventually, the barrage stopped. He panted in exhaustion after all that running. But at least now he could live somewhere where the Empire had less power.

Right now, Mac needed to lay low. Finding a settlement was top priority, but he also needed to find a map of Skyrim. He wandered around aimlessly. For a while, the mountainous southern area of Skyrim seemed barren and empty. But then he saw what appeared to be a camp! Mac slowed down his pace and walked towards it. He could find help here. Maybe stay for the night and leave at dawn. He neared the camp, and saw that the people of the camp were actually soldiers. At night, it was hard to tell, but these soldiers didn't seem to have Imperial equipment or armour. Not even the signature red colour.

The military is bad business for Mac. These people could probably be working for the Empire. The Imperials have been known to side with local militias in the past. Mac turned around and tried to sneak away, but someone already caught him.

"You there! Stop right now!"

Mac swiftly turned 360 degrees and his sword was grasped in the palms of his hands. The two men glared at each other in the dead of the night, each waiting for the other to make a move. The whole camp was alerted to Mac's position, and they all surrounded him. This is going to be bad, thought Mac. A man stepped forward and appeared to be the soldiers' leader. He spoke in a deep voice with a heavy Nordic accent.

"Who are you, stranger? You seem to have come from the direction of the border, so..." He paused.

"You are an Imperial spy." As Mac heard those words, he became confused. Imperial spy? Anger quickly rose.

"You call me that again, and I'll tear the guts right out of you and roast them over the burning bodies of your dead men!" Mac replied.

A few seconds of silence passed. The soldiers gripped their weapons tighter, but their leader put his Han up. Then, the leader began to speak again but in a less threatening tone.

"I... apologise for jumping to conclusions. Me and my allies have had rather tense moments in the past. Now, let me ask again. Who are you?"

Before Mac could answer, an arrow pierced the shoulder of a soldier. Everyone turned to see that they were completely surrounded by none other than Imperials. A female Imperial dressed in captain's armour told everyone to freeze and drop their weapons. At first, the soldiers in blue seemed to be ready to fight, but then they obeyed and surrendered. Even with Mac's help, the blue soldiers were heavily outnumbered and outgunned. Not even the leader decided to fight. Mac threw down his sword as well.

They handcuffed Mac and the blue soldiers and searched the camp, stealing various objects while at it. The Imperial captain walked to the leader, spoke a few words to him, and then had one of her soldiers gag him for whatever reason. Mac sighed. He had just run into the very thing he was trying to avoid.


	3. Death Row

The sudden bump on the road jolted Mac awake. His dreams about biting into the sweet, soft, sugary Sweetroll had vanished so suddenly. Instead, he found himself on a horse-drawn carriage, handcuffed by Imperial soldiers, shivering in the chilly winter dawn. Back to reality.

He squinted his eyes which were still numb from the brawl last night. Now he was beginning to remember. He attempted to escape from the Imperial patrol. He tried to resist, upper-cutting an Imperial that was just about to put him in chains. It didn't take long until he was swarmed by figures clad in red, and was beaten senseless. Mac should've avoided those soldiers in blue. But he didn't. His capture put him in a sour mood.

"Hey, you're finally awake."

The soldier sitting in front of him grinned. Mac thought for a moment, and supposed that it may be a good idea to ally himself with the soldiers he got caught up with. In a situation like this, it's for the best. Mac responded.

"Yes... I am."

"You've been out for the entire night. I saw everything. Knocked that Imperial sap right down, and-"

"I know."

The soldier paused for a moment. "My name's Ralof, stranger. I've been fighting with the Stormcloaks ever since Ulfric began rallying us Nords."

"Stormcloaks? Ulfric?"

"Unfamiliar with local politics, eh? I will explain later. Ulfric is the son of Skyrim and the face of our rebellion, and here he sits right next to you!"

Mac turned to his right. Indeed, it was that man from last night. In the daylight, Mac could see Ulfric's features more clearly. The man sported rigid blonde hair, icy blue eyes, and a heroic-looking beard. That beard was mostly obscured by a cloth over Ulfric's mouth. Ulfric's eyes met Mac's, and Mac nodded in response. Mac also saw another man on the carriage. He was dressed in simple rags, and did not seem to be one of those present at the Stormcloak camp. The ragged man spoke up.

"Damn you Stormcloaks. Everything was going fine until you showed up." He spit to the side onto the snow. He then glanced at Mac.

"You and me, we aren't supposed to be here! It's the Stormcloaks they want, not us."

Ralof replied first. "We are all brothers and sisters in binds now, horse thief."

"Once we stop, I'm going to explain everything. You Stormcloaks can rot in prison for all I care. I'll be home free and on my way to Hammerfell!"

Mac felt the air getting warmer. He looked and realised that they were approaching a town wall. The gates swung open as they neared. He could literally sense the strong presence of Imperial soldiers here.

"I am afraid you won't be going anywhere." Ralof nudged his head towards a soldier on horseback behind their carriage. The soldier particularly stood out: his armour looked fancy and trimmed with gold, he wore no helmet, and he was speaking with a few Thalmor operatives. It was General Tullius.

"G-General Tullius!? What is he doing here?" The thief panicked.

"What do you think? We're on the highway to Sovngarde, friend."

Crowds gawked at the passing carriages. The sight of Tullius triggered Mac's bloodlust. Once he gets out of here, he would claim the general's head. But Mac pushed those thoughts aside. Escape is priority.

The carriage came to a sudden halt. The time had come. Everyone stepped out of their carriages and formed single file lines. The Imperial guards, supervised by a captain, began counting off the prisoners.

"Ulfric Stormcloak of Windhelm."

Mac quickly analyzed his surroundings. Imperial archers were flanking them to the right. A crowd of soldiers were to Mac's left. He had to find an opening.

"Lokir of Rorikstead."

The horse thief yelled out and dashed up the road. The Imperial captain called out to her archers. Lokir didn't even make it a few yards before being shot down. Mac thought that Lokir's distraction would help, and was about to make a break for it until he saw Lokir's quick death. He sheepishly stepped back a pace. Although Mac did silently thank Lokir for testing an escape route and ruling it out.

"Ralof of Riverwood."

Mac had to think fast. There was a tower on the right side, but its door was closed and probably locked. Guards were completely surrounding him. There was no way out.

"You there. Step forward."

Mac had no choice. He obliged by the man's orders.

"Who are you?"

"...I'm just a nobody."

The Imperial captain barked at Mac: "You choose your words foolishly, idiot. We don't know you, so you might have a chance to live. But right now, my patience is low."

"Oh, I'm so scared! I don't wanna die! Woe is me!" Mac replied sarcastically. He then said, "Just kidding, you ugly Skeever."

The captain's face turned red, and already her sword was clenched in her hand. She stomped towards Mac, but she was stopped by the man counting the prisoners. This did not quell her anger, however.

"Off to the chopping block with you!"

"But ma'am, we do not even know his identity." The man tried to reason with her.

"I DO NOT GIVE A DAMN!" the captain roared.

Thus, Mac was sent in with the crowd awaiting execution. His conversation with the captain costed some time, and by the time he was in death row, there was already a man on the chopping block. The alemán brought down his weapon, and a sickening _whomp _sound was heard. The captain walked up to the executioner, whispered into his ear, and pointed towards Mac. He was next.

Mac walked the pace of an Elsweyr slug to the chopping block. The captain approached Mac from behind and shoved him. She growled and yelled into his ear, "MOVE IT, DOG!" What she didn't know was that she fell into Mac's trap.

Mac swiftly turned around and headbutted her. He hit so hard that her helmet was knocked from her head. Using whatever control he had in his bounded hands, he grabbed the captain's throat. His fingernails dug in deeply in her exposed neck, and soon Mac's fingers were stained with red. Mac spun the captain around to take her hostage (or human shield).

"NOBODY MOVES OR THIS OFFICER DIES!"

The rest of the Imperials stood there frozen, unknowing of what to do. This was not an ideal situation. His hands were weak and could not hold a grip for much long. He was also outflanked by several Imperial soldiers. The captain squirmed and thrashed about violently, but Mac was stronger. What everyone failed to notice during the action was the ominous echoing roar from the mountains.

"Let me free and I'll spare her!"

General Tullius, who was hiding behind a group of soldiers, spoke up. "Men, kill the prisoner! Captain Alavia will be fine!" He signalled the archers.

Mac's fate was sealed. There was no doubt about it. He gritted his teeth and prepared for the worst.

...

The archers did not fire at all. Instead, their expressions reflected terror. They were not looking at Mac. Mac tilted his head upwards, and saw a large black bird swoop by. The building behind him started to rumble and debris fell nearly on top of Mac.

A blast of huge flames impacted the ground only a few feet in front of him. The people who stood there are black ashes. What kind of magic was this?! The thought-to-be bird let out a terrifying roar. Everyone, even the prisoners, began to scatter and flee. Mac thought it was all a myth. He thought they had been gone for thousands of years. He thought this was all a dream. His thoughts were incorrect.

This was no bird. The dragons had come.


End file.
